Spaced out
by Fleurdetemps
Summary: How the Doctor adventures get tied up with Tim, Daisy, Mike and Brian from 'Spaced'.
1. Chapter 1

**Tim's Story**

Tim looked up as the man and woman entered the comic book shop. He was wearing a brown pinstripe suit and brown coat. She was a blond girl wearing the typical costume of those that lived on the city estates.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Ah, yes," said the man. "I'm looking for a comic."

"Any one in particular?"

"Hmmm…I was looking for one from the seventies."

"What," Tim tried to reply.

"It contained a story by John Smith…I think it was in a publication called-,"

"Spaced Out."

"Bingo!"

"Have you got a copy?" asked the girl.

"Erm…I'm not sure, I'll have to take a look out back. If you just wait there a moment."

Tim disappeared into the back of the shop, through a dark blue door above which was nailed a wooden sign with the words police call box painted on it.

"That's odd," said Rose, pointing it out.

"Probably a fan of the series," replied the Doctor, absentmindedly flicking through the comics on show. "Ooh, this one is new. I didn't know they'd made one of than incarnation."

"So that fop is you?"

"Used to be."

"Don't you think he look like-,"

"Nah. Only a vague resemblance…you get some doubles in several million years."

"Doctor," Rose tapped him on the shoulder. "Did you just see what passed by the window?"

"What?"

"I think it was one of _those_ creatures."

Tim emerged from the back room holding up the comic sealed in a plastic dust cover.

"I've got it! Hey," he called out as the two customers rushed out the door.

The Doctor popped his head round the door for a fleeting moment.

"Sorry, got to go…I'll be back."


	2. Chapter 2

**Daisy's Story**

Daisy stood uncomfortably, dressed in a plain white blouse and black trousers, holding a silver tray full of nibbles. They hadn't trusted her with the champagne after catching her necking several glasses of the stuff, her first warning. The ponce in black tie with the pretentious hairdo grabbed a handful of nibbles off the tray like some ravenous animal.

"Oy, oy, oy," snapped Daisy. "Slow down there tiger."

"Excuse me," replied the Doctor.

"If you keep stuffing your fat face I'm gonna' have to go back and refill the tray and I don't wanna' do that."

"Me, fat?"

"A-,"

"Fat! Who are you calling fat?" he said holding his skinny arms up. "I can understand if you said I was anorexic but fat…what planet are you on?"

"This one you f-,"

"Ah-ah-ah…temper, temper," said the Doctor interrupting before she could use an expletive. "I don't think much of your customer service."

"I don't think much of your hair."

"What's your name?"

"Eh?"

"Well, Eh…I'm going to speak to your superior about your manners."

"I don't like your tone," she growled.

"You are argumentative aren't you," he replied.

"I just don't like being told what to do, it's my creative temperament."

"What are you doing serving food then?"

"Writers block."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

"Take this…it might help you with your muse."

"What is it?"

She went to open it up but he placed a restraining hand on hers.

"Not yet, wait till you get home. Remember with great power comes great responsibility."

Daisy glared at him. Then handing the tray to a nearby guest she walked out, she wasn't going to wait to read it.

He turned to Martha, "That's Spiderman isn't it?"

"Yep," she answered. "What was that you just gave her?"

"Special paper..." He winked.


	3. Chapter 3

**Mike's Story**

Mike - dressed in his combat fatigues - watched as his pride and joy, a battle machine. It trundled down the path in the local park. He manipulated the remote control giving the robot instructions to spin on the spot its axe in the ready position.

"Yeah," he said. "You're going down."

The robot started to move towards him slow at first but soon speeding up not heeding his panicked movements of the controls. He checked the batteries to his surprise there were none inside.

"Hey. What do you think you're doing," he yelled. "Turn, Turn," the axe started its chopping motion. "Argh!"

He ran away from the machine as fast as his little legs could carry him.

"Help me! It's gone crazy!"

Suddenly a bloke in a blue pinstripe suit and red allstars jumped out in front of him. Mike let out a yelp.

"Don't worry," said the Doctor, pointing a sonic screwdriver at the machine.

The robot juddered to a halt as with a pop and a plume of smoke its murderous rampage was brought to a stop.

"What did you do to my robot?" exclaimed Mike.

"I just saved your life, you could have been killed."

"All in the line of duty."

"Did you put a chip from Magpie Electrical in it?"

"That's need to know-,"

"It is very important I find out where the component comes from," he paused a moment, trying to think how he could get through to him. He flashed the psychic paper. "It's a matter of national security."

"Yes, sir," replied Mike standing to attention.

The Doctor glanced at the paper. It told him he was Colonel Smith.

"Where did you get the chip from soldier?"

"The shop on the corner, Magpies as you earlier suggested, sir."

"Thank you. At ease…"

The Doctor gave a salute then ran off back through the park.


	4. Chapter 4

**Brian's Story**

Brian stood back from the canvas, paint brush in hand, peering at the portrait in front of him with concern. He wasn't sure who it was a portrait of the image had just come to him in the night nagging him till he got up. His brush dashing across the paper in broad strokes, a picture of a Edwardian gentleman in a smart velvet jacket convalesced on the page.

"Hmm…" he tilted his head to the right and then to the left. "Hmm…"

"Are you going to stand there all day?" said the painting unexpectedly.

Brian almost jumped out of his skin stumbling back towards the door.

"W-w-what," he looked around him, thinking perhaps he had been smelling too many paint fumes. "This can't be happening."

"I can assure you it is. I don't like being stuck in two dimensions but if you could just get me out of the painting I would be so grateful."

"What…I mean who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor. I would shake hands but as you can see it's not possible. I'm feeling a little flat."

"I'm sorry." Suddenly the phone rang. "Excuse me." He picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

He mouthed, 'I'll just be a moment'.

"Yes mum…no mum…I won't forget…bye."

"Who was that then?" asked the Doctor, with a smile.

"Just my mum…"

"I guessed. Are you going to help me?"

"Erm…I suppose so. How do I…help?"

"Do you know what a police call box looks like?"

"Erm…no, ah yes…I think so."

"I want you be confident about this it's very important. I need you to paint one into a picture…well I actually need a TARDIS it just looks like a police box."

"Police box, right."

He picked up the paintbrush and went to place it on the canvas but suddenly pulled back.

"It's blue."

"I know…I just need to," Brian took a deep breath. "Make sure I stay true to the artistic mood of the piece."

"Can you do it a little quicker please?"

Brian stood back dipped the brush in the paint and swiped at the canvas at a furious pace.

Soon the image of the TARDIS formed on the page.

"Voila!"

"I'm eternally grateful…Brian isn't it?"

"Yes," he gave an odd look. "I didn't tell you my name."

"I told you mine, didn't I?" replied the Doctor, his image moving across the canvas towards the TARDIS. "I hope this works."

He walked through the 2D doors and with an eerie grating noise the whole painting disappeared.


End file.
